It is the year 1864. Andre is a scene changer and cleaner boy at the Paris Opera House. He cleans, he works, he sleeps, and he wakes to do it all again the text day. The days are tiring, and he only makes two cents an hour. He dreams of a life somewhere else, to be an architect and build grand buildings. But alas, how could that be for a boy such as him?

He stands within the wings of the stage, mindlessly sweeping the dusty wood floors. He occasionally glances toward the stage where the ballerinas rehearse for the next big opera that was to take place soon. The music is haunting, slow as it may be, but also melancholic. His chest stirred with an unfamiliar feeling as he watched the dancers, combined with the music being played by the orchestra.

”Get back to work! I’ll dock a cent of your pay!” One of the managers snapped at him while he, unknowingly, gawked at the dancers, now finishing their dance.

“Sorry, sir.” Andre muttered quickly, continuing with the task at hand. He risked another glance at the ballerinas, and he could’ve swore he saw another girl looking back at him.